


Halloween specials

by abitofarockyroad



Series: Halloween specials! [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Angst, End of the World, F/M, Horror, Infection, Mild Gore, Murder, Supernatural - Freeform, Survival Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:58:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5084086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abitofarockyroad/pseuds/abitofarockyroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fics and oneshots of our favourite Avengers for the Halloween season! </p><p>"The pounding of footsteps behind you reaches your ears and you push yourself as hard as you can, not daring to look behind you. He is so close now you can hear his heavy breathing, feel the rush of air from his movement. A low rumble rips through him and all the training Bucky had managed to give you before…kicks in…"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Infected - Dystopian (pt 1 of 3)

Your legs ache, the pressure of running at top speed for this long finally getting to you. Pushing through the pain barrier, you glance behind you and see Bucky on your heels, his mouth open wide gasping to get more air into his surely burning lungs. You turn forward and see the train ahead of you, you had to make it to the train. It was getting ready to leave the station, grey clouds billowing into the air. You push your legs further, adrenaline coursing through your body as you gain on the train which is now pulling away from the station. You reach it, coming level with one of the doors. Bucky is just behind you, his heavy breathing audible over the sound of the train. Punching the button, the door slides open. You put on an extra burst of speed and manage to grab the train and pull yourself on, collapsing to the floor. Bucky follows, falling next to you just before the doors slam shut.

“Do you think…he saw?” Bucky gasps, clutching at his sides. You roll onto your back and try to control your breathing, red spots dancing in front of your eyes.

“We’ll find out soon.” You manage to reply, only now looking around carriage you’d leapt into. People were dotted around in the seats, peering over heads curiously. You pull yourself up and glance around, not seeing anything that concerns you. Bucky stands up behind you and walks with you to a pair of empty seats at the back of the train, seats where you could see anyone getting on or off.

“What now?” He asks you once you’ve sat down, finally breathing normally again. 

“We wait.”

“We can only wait so long.”

 “Look. Unless you have any better ideas I suggest you just keep your mouth shut. We don’t want anyone hearing.” You whisper furiously, Bucky only slumping back in his seat in response. You’d been running for so long you’d almost forgotten what you were running from anymore. You had no idea where you were running to, all you’d focused on was getting away.

“Why is he after us so bad?” Bucky asks, his hand resting on your knee.

“Well I think you probably pissed him off when you throw a knife at him.” You say thoughtfully, grimacing. 

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Bucky cried, his face falling.

“I thought we agreed to not hurt him.”

“I know but he was going to kill you what else could I do?” He replies, looking at you with pure desperation in his eyes. “He’s past saving anyway. When the virus gets you there isn’t anything they can do.”

“I know. It just feels wrong though.” You murmur, your eyes filling with tears. A virus had appeared from who knows where and had spread through the population like wildfire. It was horrible. Some people were immune, you and Bucky being two of the lucky who were safe. The virus, it burned people from the inside out. Made them slaves to their natural instincts. They weren’t zombie like, they were faster and smarter than humans ever had been. They thought only of survival. It was life and death for them with nothing in between. 

The government had fallen, most of the country’s leaders succumbing to the virus. The world was in chaos and all you could do was keep moving, hoping you wouldn’t be caught. The area you were in at the moment was mostly safe, it wasn’t overly populated. People with the virus generally moved to busier areas for easier prey. You hadn’t slept in days, hadn’t eaten. There was a constant threat of death so you didn’t have time for such luxuries. 

“(y/n)” Bucky whispers suddenly, gripping your knee tightly. “The train is stopping.”

“We aren’t at a station.

“I know.” He says, craning his neck to see over the top of the seats in front. Other people were looking around, their faces pure terror. You and Bucky both watched as fingers pushed their way between the train doors. Slowly they were forced opened, revealing three infected. You slunk back into your seats as screams erupted from the train. Bucky pulled the cleaner out of his backpack quietly and sprayed both of you down. The infected didn’t see well and relied mostly on scent. You’d got this far by disguising your human smell with as many things as possible. Petrol, bleach, cleaning products, mud, anything you could get your hands on really. 

All you could be thankful for was that it wasn’t him who had found the train. He had your scent. He could tell where you were however much you tried to disguise it. These three didn’t pay any attention to the back of the carriage where you and Bucky were hiding though. They worked their way through the passengers. The thing about the infected, was they burned from the inside out, their organs didn’t last very long. So they replaced them. Bodies were split open, lungs, livers, intestines, hearts were ripped out and crudely shoved into the infected body. The virus took hold of the new organ immediately, introducing it to the new body only to begin killing it. They kept this up until it the virus burnt through their brain. Once the brain was gone they were too, the brain was the one thing they couldn’t replace. As bad as the situation was, it was slightly reassuring to at least know these monsters could die. The infected would then eat the remains of course. They didn’t like to leave anything behind. Waste not want not eh?

“They’re gone.” Bucky whispers a good ten minutes after the infected first got on the train.

“They must have got the driver.” You mutter when the train fails to start moving again. You follow Bucky and move away from your seats to inspect the damage. There was blood and discarded organs everywhere. The old organs were black and shrivelled, almost undistinguishable from their previous forms. You could just about make out some hearts, lungs and something that could have been a tongue but you weren’t sure.

 “This train was our ride to the next city. Walking it will take days and it’s just open ground out there. They’ll pick us off in two minutes.” Bucky says, kicking a piece of flesh out of his way with his boot, a look of pure disgust on his face.

“We don’t have any other options. We can’t go back or he’ll find us. We can’t go forward because someone else will find us.”

“The train is probably still working, I’m sure we could run it. How difficult could it be?” Bucky suggests, shrugging.

“It’s worth a try.” You say, following him down the train. It doesn’t take you long to reach the front, finding a similar scene to the rest of the carriages. Blood everywhere, old organs scattered on the floor, the odd body part from the driver floating around in puddles of red. Bucky moves forward and surveys the controls while you stare out of the front window.

“Well this must be forward…” He says, pointing. You aren’t paying attention though.

“Bucky.” You say, continuing to stare forward, frozen in fear. “BUCKY.”

 “Oh shit!” He cries, looking up and seeing what you see. He is running down the tracks towards you, faster than you could ever imagine. “This way!” 

He grabs your hand and yanks you back down the train. You hear the smashing of glass from behind you and you know he is right there, following, hunting. You reach the end of the train and Bucky grabs your packs, pulling you with him into the train toilet, locking the door behind you.

“That lock won’t hold for long.” You point out unwillingly, but it had to be said.

“It’ll hold long enough for us to come up with some kind of plan.” He says, rummaging through his backpack.

“What the hell is there we can do?!” You cry desperately, suddenly feeling incredibly claustrophobic. “He knows where we are!”

“Just quiet! I’m trying to think!” Bucky growls, pulling out a knife and some pepper spray. You’d worked out too late that pepper spray was like acid to the infected, for reasons nobody could explain. “Our only bet is to douse him in this and hope it distracts him enough for us to throw him off the train. I’ll do that and keep him preoccupied and you run to the front of the train and get us moving. Once we are at a decent speed you open the door and I’ll push him out, ok?”

"That’s never going to work!” You cry, tears now flowing down your cheeks.

“It’s our only hope.” Bucky whispers, standing and pulling you close to him. “I promised to protect you, but you need to trust me on this. It will work, ok?”

“Ok.” You reply, wiping the tears and setting what you hoped was a look of determination on your face. Bucky opens his mouth to reply, but snaps it shut when you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps entering the carriage. You don’t realise how loud you are being until Bucky puts his hand gently over your mouth, masking the sound of your heavy breathing. The footsteps move slowly, getting louder and louder. You can hear him breathing heavily now, inhaling deeply and letting out a low guttural noise from the back of his throat. Your stomach turned as Bucky dropped into a fighting stance, facing the door. He looked at you and nodded, you nodding back. You weren’t ready. You weren’t anywhere near ready.

“I know you are here.” You heard his voice loud and clear from just outside the door. His voice sounded different and tainted, nowhere near what it used to be like. The sound of his voice used to bring joy and happiness, but now it only brought fear.

The door shook slightly and you gasped, backing away, knocking your heel against the wall. You hear a throaty laugh from the other side of the door. The door shakes with more force, the bolt rattling and weakening before your eyes. Then, all at once, the bolt snaps off and the door slides open.

“GO!” Bucky screams as you stare at the sight in front of you. The blood dripping from his eyes, which were red and bloodshot. Blood also dripping from his mouth and down his chin. His teeth were more pointed, his lip pulled back into a snarl. His veins were popping out of his red skin, his skin peeling away. In a lot of places huge chunks of skin and muscle had been burned off or ripped out, leaving a gaping hole down to the bone.

You couldn’t move, you were frozen. All you could do was stare and wonder how the hell something so horrible could have happened to someone as good as Steve Rogers.


	2. Infected - Dystopian (pt 2 of 3)

“(Y/N) RUN NOW!” Bucky screams again, directing the pepper spray straight into Steve’s face. Steve backs away, crying out, his hands raised to try and protect himself. Your legs move as if in autopilot, propelling you past Steve and down the train towards the controls. You don’t hear footsteps after you, only yells from Steve and Bucky so you assume Bucky is holding up his part of the plan. When you finally get to the front you stare at the controls in complete confusion, not knowing what was what. You press a button experimentally and nothing happens. Then you spot the huge lever. You push it forwards and with a rumble the train begins moving. You hold it as far forward as it will go, trying to get as much speed as possible.

“(Y/N)!” You hear Bucky scream from behind you before you can open the doors. You turn just in time to see Steve lunging at you, his eyes wild, teeth bared. You throw out your arms and hit his shoulders, keeping his face away from yours. You struggle against his weight, Bucky making it to you just in time. If he had been a second longer your arms would have given way and Steve would have bitten into your neck, severing the main artery.

“Steve stop!” You shout in desperation as he turns on Bucky. Strangely, he falters. His head turns slowly to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. This was the most recognition you’d ever got from an infected. The fact that he had even acknowledged your voice was incredible. “Steve let him go!”

He opens his mouth, his eyes fixed on you. This momentary break in focus from Steve gives Bucky enough time to grab something heavy and smash Steve over the head. Steve crumples to the floor and Bucky scrambles out from underneath him.

“Are you ok?” He asks quickly, cupping your face in his hands.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You mutter, your cheeks wet with tears. “He heard me.”

“I know. That’s never happened before.” Bucky says, watching as Steve starts to stir. “We need to get rid of him.”

“But he heard me! Surely you of all people can understand what he’s going through right now!” You cry in desperation.

“If we keep him here he will just wake up and try to kill us again!”

“But…”

“We have no other option ok! Just open the doors.” He says firmly, grasping Steve’s ankles and dragging him towards the first set of doors. It takes you a few seconds but you finally press a button and hear the doors sliding open. You are shooting down the tracks and you hear the unmistakable thud of a body hutting the floor. You push the door button again and lean against the panel, your tears dropping off your face and splashing down on the controls in front of you.

“Is he gone?” You ask when you hear footsteps moving back into the front of the train.

“Yes.” Bucky mutters, slumping down into the driver’s seat ignoring the blood. At this point, blood didn’t really bother you anymore. “He said…that was…”

“I know. Maybe if he acknowledged us it will throw him off a bit and take him longer to find us?” You say hopefully, your heart dropping when you turn and see Bucky’s completely broken face.

“I never thought something like that would happen to Steve.” He practically whispers.

“Look. Nobody did. These things happen. We’ve lost everyone. They’re all gone. All we have is each other so we need to get through this together.” You say, trying to sound more confident than you felt. Looking at Bucky’s face you could tell it hadn’t worked.

“If this should be affecting anyone surely it should be you.”

“Well he was your best friend for practically your whole life.” You point out.

“Yeah but you were engaged to him.” He counters. Your hand instinctively moves to the ring you couldn’t bear to take off, despite it being just another horrible reminder of everything you’d lost.

“That is not what I was engaged to. The man I was engaged to is gone.” You say firmly, not letting yourself cry again. You had to be strong, if anything for Bucky. “So when we reach the next town what then?”

“Well. I had a safe house here a while ago so I say we try there, hopefully the roll mats and rations I had hidden have survived.”

“Is it far from the station?” You ask, a feeling of tightness growing in your chest.

“A five or ten minute walk max. Not too far.”

“Ok. That’s fine. We can manage that.”

“We will be fine. There shouldn’t be too many infected in this town hopefully. It’s a small town.” Bucky says in a reassuring tone that meant nothing to you anymore. However much he tried to reassure you of something you know it wasn’t genuine.

“We should start slowing down the train.” You say, spotting the station you needed approaching quickly. You were still going top speed. You grab the lever and pull it backwards, feeling the breaks apply and the train begin to slow. “Do you have the packs?”

“We don’t have much left.” Bucky muses, rummaging through your rucksacks. Just as he begins rearranging things, you hear a thud on the roof of the train. You freeze, looking up and listening as footsteps make their way across the roof. “Keep an eye on the station, we don’t want to miss it.”

“Is it Steve?” You whisper, listening to the footsteps still.

“Can’t be. He was still unconscious when I threw him off the train. There’s no way he could have caught up.” Bucky replies. “I’ll go check it out.”

“Be careful.” You call after him as a last thought. You keep slowing the train more and more as the station approaches quickly. Finally the train judders to a complete stop and Bucky reappears.

“I couldn’t see a thing.”

“Nothing?”

“I searched all the carriages. One of the doors was missing so I climbed up a bit and looked at the top of the train but there was nothing on there.”

“Maybe it fell off?” You suggest and Bucky shrugs, punching the door button.

“I don’t want to stick around to find out. Let’s get out of here.” He says, grabbing his pack and handing you yours, leading the way to the doors. You step out onto the platform and glance around. Deeming it safe you walk out, looking for the exit. You head for a bridge over the tracks, leading in the direction of the safe house. As you reach the middle of the bridge however, you hear a noise from below you. You pause and turn, just in time to see Steve pulling himself up over the railings and straightening up. His eyes look, if possible, even more manic than before. They were focused on you as if Bucky wasn’t even there, his mouth open, chest rising and falling heavily. He had clearly ran all out to catch up with your train. So much for him taking longer to find you.

“You don’t have to do this. Leave us alone. It’ll be ok.” You say gently. You watch as Steve shivers slightly, shaking his head, his eyes sliding slightly out of focus.

“Stop.” He mutters.

“Steve.” You try, wondering if using his name would work.

He glares at you before replying, “Who the hell is Steve?”


	3. Infected - Dystopian (pt 3 of 3)

“You are Steve!” You cry, feeling yourself on the verge of tears again. He stares at you, his eyes holding steady despite his twitchy hands. You knew he was dying to lunge for you, but for some reason he was resisting.

“Steve look. It’ll be ok. I’m with you till the end of the line, pal.” Bucky says gently, holding his hands up and walking slowly towards Steve. You stay back, frozen in fear as Bucky moves slowly closer to Steve. He treats him like a wild animal, not breaking eye contact, not making any sudden movements. He is within arm’s reach of Steve when he stops, his shoulders rising and falling heavily with each shaky breath.

“You…” Steve mutters, his eyes flitting around Bucky’s face. Bucky nods, slowly moving his hand to put it gently on Steve’s shoulder. At this point Steve’s instincts kick in. Bucky, now a threat, was the main focus of Steve’s predatory stare. You held your breath as Bucky realised what he had done and slowly removed his hand, beginning to back up. But it was too late.

Steve lunges, his hand shooting out. His fingers sink into Bucky’s chest as if it were made of butter, a puff of air escaping Bucky’s lips in place of a scream. Deep red blood seeps from between Steve’s fingers as he pushes further into Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, his eyes wide and glassy. A trickle of blood leaks from the corner of his mouth as his legs begin to crumple. Steve pulls his arm back and you hear what can only be described as a tearing sound, ripping through the almost silent air around you. Without Steve’s hand holding him up Bucky falls immediately to the ground, still, his heart remaining in Steve’s hand.

You watch in silence, too afraid to move, as Steve pulls a pen knife out of his pocket and flicks it open. He lifts up his shirt revealing his peeling, red skin beneath and cuts a neat line down an already incredibly scarred chest. He had made this cut before. What you see when he discards his knife is not like anything you’d ever expected to, or wanted to see in your life. He peels back the skin and it is like a hollow shell inside. No blood. Nothing besides shrivelled, dying organs. You fight the bile rising in your throat as Steve reaches inside his chest, ripping out a blackened heart and dropping it on the floor. He quickly replaces it with Bucky’s his skin seeming to heal back together in seconds, leaving only a single white line down the middle of his chest.

You take a shaky step back and Steve’s eyes immediately flick back to you as if he had completely forgotten you were still standing there. You stand still again, holding his eye contact. Then you do one of the most stupid things you’ve done in a very long time. You turn and run. You knew he would be able to catch you without even breaking a sweat, but you had to do something. You couldn’t just stay there and stare at Bucky’s lifeless body. You had to get out of there.

The pounding of footsteps behind you reaches your ears and you push yourself as hard as you can, not daring to look behind you. He is so close now you can hear his heavy breathing, feel the rush of air from his movement. A low rumble rips through him and all the training Bucky had managed to give you before…kicks in. You stop suddenly and drop to the floor, Steve tripping and sprawling on the dirt in front of you. You scramble for your pepper spray and manage to douse him in it. The screams that erupt from his mouth leaves you incredibly conflicted. This was the man that only a month ago you were completely in love with. However he had just murdered his best friend without blinking an eye. You had to do something about it, but you didn’t know if you would be able to bring yourself to hurt him.

While he is momentarily distracted you turn and run, weaving in between the buildings and down alleys hoping it would make it harder for him to find you. When you can physically run no more you duck into the next house you come to, grateful to find it empty. You collapse on the floor and try to catch your breath, your gasps for air mixed with sobs. You clutch your stomach, your sides burning from lack of oxygen. Your muscles ache, a bitter relief spreading through your body finally being able to let yourself relax. How had things got so bad so fast?

“You.” You hear someone growl from the door. You jump to your feet and back up against a wall, watching as Steve walks into the house, his eyes mad.

“Steve.” You say cautiously, holding up your hands to show him you aren’t armed. “Steve listen to me.”

“The man on the bridge…” He says slowly, stopping in the middle of the room and staring at you, his brow furrowed. “Who was he?”

“He was…nobody. Just someone I was travelling with. You saw him earlier this week when you attacked us.”

“I knew him…”

“He wasn’t anyone important Steve. He’s gone now anyway.” You say, choking back a sob.

“But I knew him…”

“Steve. You did know him. And you know me. You just need to remember.” You prompt, something similar to hope swirling around inside you.

“What is happening to me?” He mutters, looking down at his blood covered hands.

“You’re ill Steve. Baby it’ll be ok.” You say, tears now dripping down your cheeks.

“No…I need…I need you.” He says, moving towards you. You blink and he is in front of you, his teeth bared.

“Steve you know me. You love me.” You gasp. He backs away again, his hands springing up to clutch his head.

“NO. STOP.” He shouts, doubling over. Then, without warning, he lunges towards you, pausing just in front of your face. His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and for a moment, just that split second, you think everything is back to normal. You feel that familiar lurch in your stomach, the feeling of being close to the man you love. He leans in closer, his lips just about to brush yours and then your entire world turns red. You are vaguely aware of a pain spreading from your core around your entire body, but your body doesn’t seem to process it. Steve’s final attempt to save himself are in vain though. You watch as he backs away, his hand red with your blood, moving to his forehead. The infected live until the disease rots their brain. The brain can never be saved. He knew something was wrong with him but he didn’t know what. The only thing he knew was stealing organs so he went for yours, not realising the problem wasn’t in his chest. Your hands move as if in slow motion to the hole in your gut, your fingers examining the damage.

You and Steve fall to your knees in unison, blood now pumping from your body steadily, making you feel more lightheaded every second. The red tinge in your vision is now blackening and you struggle to keep your eyes open. In the last moments you watch Steve. You watch his perfect face which is contorted in pain. His eyes spring open and he focuses them on you.

“(y/n)” He breathes, then stills. His face, previously frightening, is now peaceful. He looks like you remembered him. He looks like the man you fell in love with.


	4. Wrong Turn - Murderer (pt 1 of 3)

“I said let me look at the map, man!” You laugh, stretching over the front seat to try and snatch the map from Steve who pulled it back, batting your hands away.

“We’re not lost, okay, just trust me.” He says. You stick your tongue out at him but sit down again, leaving him to it since he was so determined. You can hear the paper rustling as he tries to find your route. You lean your head back against the chair and close your eyes, letting the warm sun and the soft breeze soak into your skin. “Okay, I think we have to take the next left.”  

“Uh, you sure? Off the highway?” Bucky asks, slowing the car down as the turning nears. You open your eyes to take a look and see a small one lane road that veers away from the main road. The trees that were kept at bay along the main road were free to grow there, and they grew taller and closer together like a heavy ceiling that blocked out the light. Something about the road made your stomach clench but you ignored it. “This doesn’t look right Steve.”

Nat chuckles behind you, leaning between the seats to playfully nip at Bucky’s ear. “Let’s just trust wonder boy this time, we’ll get to the house eventually.”

Bucky smirks and turns his face away from the road for a long second to place a sloppy kiss on her lips before focusing on driving again, Nat plunking back into her seat. The affection was sweet, a smile pulled at your lips seeing the new couple being so happy, you felt content in this moment just driving with your closest friends.

“Pass me a beer would you, (y/n)?” Steve says, poking your shoulder. Nat seconds that so you pass back two beers before pointing sternly at Bucky.

“And none for the driver yet,” you smirk, pulling the tab off your can to take a swig, “you’ll have to wait ‘til we get there.” Bucky rolls his eyes but agrees, turning on the radio.

“One of you guys really need to hurry up and get your damn license.” He says, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Yeah, yeah.” You laugh. “Steve, what happened to directions buddy?”

“It’s literally one long road, I doubt there’s much chance we could get lost.” He says, taking another sip of his drink and getting comfortable.

“Uh guys,” Bucky says, the uncertainty in his voice making everyone perk up, “If it’s one road then why have we come to a dead end?”

At this you all look out the window. The road ahead of you petered off into overgrown woods, the ground breaking out of the pavement to block your way entirely. It seemed a lot darker this far into the woods, the sky barely visible through the thick canopy. You sigh, jumping out of the car to take a look, your arms feeling cold without the sun to warm them.

“Looks like it’s just overgrown, we’ll have to go back and find a different way.” You say.

Everyone groans but jumps back in, Bucky starting the car up and turning it around, driving quickly out of the creepy road. You shake your head and lean over to steal the map from Steve before he can stop you, grinning as you snatch it away. “I’ll find the way this time.”

“Bucky, watch out!” Nat suddenly screams, and you can only hear the blare of a truck's horn before you feel yourself being thrown forward, a great roaring filling your ears and vibrating through your whole body so much so that you can think of nothing else but that tremendous roar and the force that’s pushing you. Then you hit something, your limbs pulled and torn with no space to move them.

And then, you sleep.

  
  


You were stiff and the room was cold.

Pain is the first thing you can comprehend as you wake up, a sharp gnawing pain in every joint and every tissue of your body. You wake up with a shuddering breath, you mouth opening in a silent scream that your lungs couldn’t seem to get out.

You could only open one eye, the other seem glued shut and you lift your hand to inspect it but pull it away quickly with a hiss as pain flares around the swollen socket.

As your sense came back, heightened as the adrenaline began to course through you, you were noticing things. It was dark but shapes were beginning to take form in the room. It was a small square room as far as you could tell, with no windows to light the place up, and the large shapes were positioned throughout the sides of the room.

The smell in the room made you want to gag, so strong a smell of mould and piss filled your nose that you tried to lift a hand to your face to cover it. Your hand is stopped, metal clanking as the chains that held you pull taught.

This is when, breathing in the disgusting air, a cold sweat beading along your forehead, dripping to your shaking lips, you make out the shape of the things in the room with you. Your friends, all unconscious. Seemingly you were the first one to wake up.

Why were you here and where was here? The last thing you could remember was taking the map from Steve and then you – crashed? Your head felt fuzzy. But Steve, oh god Steve, and Nat and Bucky. Were they alright?

You try to see if you friends were okay from where you were but you couldn’t, you couldn’t see and you couldn’t tell from this distance if they were breathing or not. You curl into yourself as you shiver in fear and in the cold, hopeless terror gripping your heart as tears build in your eyes.

Your head shoots up when you hear a murmur from somewhere in the room, someone shuffling slightly before all goes silent again. You had to see if they were all right, you had to, you had to.

Crying in earnest now you try to crawl to them, your brain not thinking of your shackled hands as you desperately try to drag your way to your friends, you had to see. You don’t move. Slumping down in defeat, you can’t stop your tears from falling, your heart stopping when you realise you’re legs have remained unresponsive.

Where your hands could reach you hit your thigh, your breath stopping when you feel nothing. You try to wiggle your toes but you can’t. You are completely paralyzed.

Leaning against the wall again you sob in fear, hoping this was a bad dream. And then, a voice speaks beside you.

“Don’t worry, the paralysis will pass.”


	5. Wrong Turn - Murderer (pt 2 of 3)

A scream rips through you and you jerk violently away from the voice, frantically clawing across the hard floor.

“No, no, no, no don’t worry! I’m not one of them, I was put here the same as you!” He tries to calm you, the chains on his hands clattering as he lifts them up in a sign of surrender. You stay leaning away from you, wary, but try to calm your panting breath. “Please, if they hear you they’ll come down here and that’s not what any of us want.”

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. Forcing your breathing away from hyperventilation though your hands still trembled terribly and there was no stopping that.

“How do you know that?” You bite out and your voice sounds broken, unused.

“I’ve been here a while…” He says, sounding hollow. You still can’t see very well, only making out the vague features of a pointed, gaunt face and black hair. “I’m Loki by the way. Are they your… Your friends?”

He nods his heads to the other people in the room and your heart clenches, shakily you exhale. “Yeah…”

“That’s good,” He mutters, almost to himself, and you think you would feel angry if you weren’t so terrified, “it’s worse if it’s family…”

Before you have time to ask him what he means someone wakes up. And they wake up screaming.

You’re heart starts beating faster, thundering a mile a minute and you’re breathing comes harshly as they scream and scream. It sounded like one of the boys, you think maybe Bucky but your head is spinning to fast to focus on any one thing for too long.

He screams so loud and in such a frenzy that you think there must be something wrong, he must be hurt worse than you were. The guy next to you is desperately trying to shush him, trying to calm him down but he won’t listen and soon enough a door is thrown open heavily, bright light stinging at your eye.

Two men walk into to the room and their presence is like a wet blanket held over your face, the room feels intensely more pressurised. They stand there for a moment and stare at Bucky and you stare at him too. The light has illuminated him and now you can see why he was screaming, you can see everything.

He’s facing away from you, curled into the wall but you can still make out the bloody, mangled stub where his left arm used to be. Blood is still oozing from it, the bone sticking out further than the skin and tissue that had been torn and lay in useless, stringy curls of flesh. He’s still screaming and you can only scream with him now, the men taking in the both of you.

With a nod they both separate and begin unlocking the chains around your wrists. You can only sob as the man in front of you reties your wrists at your front with a zip tie, your legs still numb, leaving you with no way to escape. He picks you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder and takes you to a room next door where he slams you on to a metal table.

“Please don’t do this, please, please.” You cry, twisting and pulling at the restraints on your wrist but they won’t give. Bucky is dropped onto another table next to you so you call out to him, crying his name as the men begin working on something at a table.

Bucky isn’t screaming anymore and you look him over worriedly, tears still streaming over your dirty face. He’s white as a sheet, the blood coming out of his arm has slowed considerably and he’s only murmuring quietly. The men drop things which clatter, drawing your attention to them.

You’re left to shiver on the slab as they go about preparing their tools. From what you can see, your heart in your mouth, they’re polishing sharp objects, slowly cleaning the instruments so they glint and shine. It makes your stomach curl.

One of them leaves and the other picks up a long, curved sickle that looked wickedly sharp and heads over to Bucky.

“Don’t! Don’t touch him, please!” The man ignores you and just stands over Bucky for a moment, seeming to take in his panicked whimpers as the man runs a finger slowly along the edge of the blade. Bucky is so weak he can barely open his eyes, you can see how hard he’s trying not to close them.

The other man comes in then, heaving the guy from before, Loki, over his shoulder to put him down on a table next to yours, his hands also bound. You make eye contact with him as the man heads over to his tools again, sharing your distress through tears and sobs, the only way you can seem to communicate right now. You weren’t looking at Bucky until you hear him scream, his hoarse voice echoing around to room making your head snap in his direction to see one of the men sawing the torn flesh away from his already damaged shoulder.

His skin falls to the floor in red, sticky ribbons. You turn your head away out of instinct, bile rising to your throat as Bucky continues to cry out in pain. You didn’t understand why this had to happen to you, why you had to go through this. Bucky was supposed to be joining the army next September, he was graduating college with a good degree, you were supposed to be celebrating right now. Not tied up and in pain listening to your friends heart wrenching screams. You feel something on your hand and, your nerves already wrecked, you flinch but opening your eyes you see its only Loki, his hand stretching out to hold yours.

He was shaking but you still gained some comfort from the touch, his eyes holding deep sympathy as you looked at him. It made you wonder what had happened to him here. Just then, your eyes drift away from Loki’s, distracting my a metallic glinting above his head. And just there, just there, was a piece of glass, small but quite thick and sturdy looking and the sight of it made your heart beat faster in anticipation of escape.


	6. Wrong Turn - Murderer (pt 3 of 3)

Looking at Loki with wide eyes, you raise you hand to place a finger to your lips, telling him to stay quiet. He agrees shakily and you glance behind you to see both men still preoccupied, Bucky’s screams still distracting most of their attention. So, with your heart in your mouth, you hastily stretch your arms out and try to grab the glass. Your fingertips just brush it, it sliding slightly at your touch and you stretch further, harder, hoping to god the men behind you don’t see you.

Rolling your body to the side slightly you’re able to just grab it finally, getting the edge of the glass in your grasp but it clinks against the metal table as you drag it closer. Your muscles tense up in fear as you wait for someone to see you and attack you next, thoughts of the horrible tortures they could use swirling through your head. But luckily no one moves in your direction, a glance behind you shows that both men are still distracted with Bucky and the tools. Your stomach rolls again.

You make quick work of Loki’s and your zip ties, the glass cutting into your hand in your hurry to get you free. And when you’re both unbound you clutch the bloodied glass close to you chest, ready to attack.

“Give it to me, I’ll get us out.” Loki whispers so quietly you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t so sensitive to every sound. You start to protest but Loki grabs you hands persistently, “Listen, your legs will still be weak and you’re not exactly in good shape, it makes more sense this way.”

You’re reluctant to part with your weapon but you nod and let him take it anyway, huddling in on yourself as you try to stop your legs from shaking so much. You hear Loki take a deep breath and turn to you, mouthing scream. So you do, you scream for help so loud that your throat starts to hurt but soon enough you hear the clatter from the tools and one of the men is looming above you, his hand closing around your throat to choke off your sound.

His face this close as his hands squeeze the air from your lungs send jolts of terror down your spine. He looked almost inhuman, pale skin pulled gaunt and sickly over his cheeckbones. He had blood smeared over his mouth, dribbling down his chin from yellowing teeth and black, greasy hair that fell in his eyes and brushed over your cheeks where he leaned so close to you. He looked mad, eyes alight with pure joy as he hands closed tighter and tighter around your neck, as you flailed helplessly under him.

And then Loki’s arm swipes out and blood, so much blood, splatters down onto your face, into your mouth and in your nose, running over you in streams. His hands loosen and you push him off you, leaving him to fall to the floor. His neck was gashed open like a smiling mouth, the white of bone could be seen like teeth between the ripped flesh, the light in his eyes dimming.

Your legs are shaky when you stand but Loki’s there beside you to stop you from falling, pulling you behind him as the second man roars in angers, pulling the blade from Bucky’s arm with a sick squelch. Bucky wasn’t making noise anymore.

Loki lashes his hand out with the glass again and cuts a deep line in the second man’s arm, his sickle clattering to the floor. The man lunges forward and he and Loki begin grappling with each other, both trying to take the other down. Panicking you spot a loose metal pole on the floor and pick it up, swiftly turning to the man and cracking it over his skull.

He drops like a bag of stones and you and Loki both relax for a moment, catching your breath. Moving to Buck you press your hands onto his pale cheeks, the cold of his skin turning your heart to despair. “We have to get everyone out of here.” You say, turning to see Loki looking down at the man who he’d killed with an odd expression that he quickly neutralised when he saw you.

“We don’t have time, there’s more people in on this than just these two. We have to go to the police right now.”

You purse your lips but follow him out the door anyway, sparing one last look to Bucky as you mentally promised him you’d get him out of there, you’d get them all out of there.

Loki leads you out of the house quickly and into the neighbouring field, your legs only taking you so fast with the injuries you’d sustained. “Here,” Loki says, and throws your arm over his shoulder, placing his around your waist to support you as he hurried you along toward the town. You look up at him, feeling a swell of gratitude for the man, even though you had only know him for a few hours, he had saved your life.

“Thank you…” You say. He just glances at you briefly and continues leading you to town. Quickly enough you’re at the police station, you can see people milling about through the windows and you feel relief spread through your body, finally the nightmare was over and you’d be okay. Checking the road before you cross you can’t help the small smile that forms on your face as you go to cross.

Until the arm around your waist tightens, pulling you back from the road.

“What’re you doing?” You question Loki, confused at the change of his face. He looked different to a moment ago, more calculative, darker. An uneasy feeling begins to pool in your stomach. “Loki..?”

You fear returns ten fold, hitting you like a trunk as he turns to look at you with a predatory smile. “Gullible, gullible child.” You try to pull away from him, your instincts telling you to get far far away, but he easily keeps you pulled close to him, your weak body not having the energy to get away. “You played extraordinarily well.” He grins.

You felt like your vocal chords were stuck, your mouth opening without sound for a moment before you could speak. “Wh-what do you mean?”

He chuckles, “This has been a game of sorts, well, for me it has. Probably not so much for you.”

He laughs as you struggle harder against him now, your heart hammering in your chest. You open your mouth wide and scream, scrabbling for the police station in the hopes that someone would see you but he swiftly stops your struggles, swinging a hard fist into your bruised ribs. You hunch over in pain and he lifts you up over his shoulder, his strength returning now he’d dropped the starved prisoner act.

He takes you back to the room with Bucky and the two men and drops you on the floor. A cry is ripped from your throat when you see Nat, your precious friend Nat who you had known since you were toddlers, who’d laughed and cried with you, hanging by her leg, her body limp and dripping with red. Her body was lacerated with cuts and gashes, her eyes bloodshot and rolled back into her head as she swung gently.

You’re filled with disgust as another man, one you didn’t recognised, turned from Nat’s body to embrace Loki, as if he hadn’t just been hacking into your best friend. They started furiously whispering something between each other a you sat and cried, pulling your hair at the roots in desperation.

Loki finished talking to the man and turns back to you, coming over to kneel next to the man he’d killed early. He stroked the hair away from his face tenderly, staring at the slice in his neck forlornly. “This wasn’t part of the plan.” He sighs, lowering his lips to place a kiss on the man’s damp forehead. Your body dry heaves at the sight, too overcome with stress, and this grabs Loki’s attention.

You scramble back on yours hands as he leans towards you, your back colliding with the wall so he can reach a hand out to you. His touches his fingers to your face, brushing them over your cheek and you cringe in fear, turning your head away from him. He wraps a hand around your chin and pulls you back to face him, taking out a small knife that he had in his boot, but you couldn’t focus on the knife when you’d seen it. You’d seen the bloody piece of glass right next to you, right next to your hand.

Keeping your eyes planting on Loki, you slyly slide your hand over the glass, grasping it tightly. “Now we come to the end of our game…” Just as he lowers the knife to your cheek, the tip cutting into your skin, you jab the glass with all of your strength into Loki’s side. It cuts through his skin jaggedly, you could feel his body forcing against the intrusion as you pushed it in but you twist it sideways against his body’s resistance, making him yell and limp to the side.

You grin in triumph as the blood starts gushing from the wound, Bucky and Nat’s bodies firing your desire for revenge even as Loki roars, raising the hand with his knife far above his head and dropping it heavily into your chest with a thick thud.

You cough up blood as it fills your lungs, making your breathing shallow with the sensation of drowning. Loki stumbles backwards holding a hand to his side and you smile, even as blood soaked through your shirt and pooled around you, the warmth of his covering you and making you sleepy. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.

Your eyes are so heavy you can’t hold them up, and before they droop you spare one last glance to Bucky and Nat, praying for Steve’s safety even as your mind goes blank. And from behind the dark of your eyelids the last thing you see is blue and red flashing lights, before they fade out to black.

 

EPILOGUE

Steve holds the cup up to Bucky’s lips and eases the drink into his mouth even as Bucky frowns at him. “C’mon Buck, you have to drink.” Steve sighs, Bucky reluctantly swallows some before it’s put down.

“I shouldn’t have any.” He grumbles. Steve couldn’t help but wonder how his life had turned out like this as he looks at his friend, his arm bandaged entirely with thick gauze, the metal prosthetic underneath just being attached this week. They’d all been hurt by those people so much.

“You have to stop doing this to yourself Bucky, it’s not your fault what happened, you know it isn’t.” Steve pleads, for what feels like the thousandth time. Bucky stays silent. The truth is Steve couldn’t help but be a bit annoyed at Bucky, not that he would ever admit it, but he had very nearly lost everyone and through some miracle Bucky had survived, he just wanted Bucky to be as grateful for his life as Steve himself was.

Just then the nurse bustled in, checking Bucky’s condition and making polite small talk. Steve’s attention was caught as another nurse ran into the room, catching his breath as he stumbles over his words.

“There’s a situation, we need you in the ICU immediately!” He rushes out. Bucky’s nurse frowns and quickly finishes with Bucky. “He just switched, he went completely crazy and he- he just pulled their organs out of the other patient’s body!”

“Not in front of the other patients, Rivers.” She hisses and heads for the door. As they leave, an emergency siren beginning to blare from somewhere in the hospital, Steve thinks he hears them mention something about a new infection but he dismisses it.

Bucky looks at him as he coughs, wincing and rubbing at his chest. “You okay, man?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Steve murmurs and smiles, “it’s just heart burn.”


	7. Burn - End of the world (pt 1 of 1)

{The world was on fire.

Red everywhere, crackling, crashing, burning.

Building were collapsing along with the people inside.

There was nothing anybody could do to stop it. It was the end of the world as you knew it.}

“(Y/N) COME ON!” Clint screamed from across the room, his eyes wide with panic, hand outstretched. The crack in the ground in your house had remained still as you camped out, hiding from the rest of society. This morning when you woke up however, the crack had grown.

You and Clint had been friends since you were kids, moved in together as adults and had stuck together through everything. Everything including, as far, the apocalypse. It had been all over the news when it first began. Freak fires. Abnormally large storms. Seemingly bottomless fissures in the ground opening up all over the world without explanation, in places without plate boundaries which really baffled the scientists.

After that it had gone progressively downhill. The fissures in the ground widened, swallowing entire towns. Sinkholes would be a daily concern, the ground prone to shuddering beneath you as you walked between safe houses and supply shops. Nobody knew how deep the fissures and sinkholes went, but nobody was exactly keen to find out. Fires would burst from the ground, the world seeming to grow hotter each day.

It took scientists weeks to realise this was global warming to the next extreme. The world had, by means nobody could explain, swung out of orbit. The perfect balance had been thrown out and the earth was too close to the sun, literally burning up. If you went into the sun with any skin uncovered it would immediately blister and burn. People would combust in the middle of the street. Not pretty.

“(Y/N) JUMP!” Clint shouts again. You take a breath and leap over the crack in your ground which was visibly widening before you. You almost stumble, Clint’s hand grasping yours at the last minutes before you can fall into the darkness below.

“Thanks.” You gasp, your heart feeling like it’s about to burst out of your chest.

“Don’t mention it.” Clint says with a breath of laughter, grabbing your rucksack and handing it to you. “I packed all the supplies I thought we could manage in a rucksack each so we’re gunna need to find somewhere new to stay.”

“Damn crack in the middle of our house.” You mutter, staring behind you into the black. “We just paid it off too.”

“Yeah well the apocalypse don’t wait for no one.”

“That was terrible grammar.” You point out, following Clint as he made his way towards the front door.

“Ah come on, it’s not the end of the world.” He says, turning to look back at you, grinning broadly.

“How many more times are you going to make that fucking joke.” You groan, rolling your eyes.

“Until the world actually ends and I am not physically capable of saying it.”

“You’re a twat.”

“Yet you still stick around.” He shoots back, winking before pulling a balaclava over his head. You grin and follow suit, pulling over your balaclava and snapping your goggles into place. Your gloves go halfway up your arm which you then cover with a long-sleeved t-shirt. Your trousers get tucked into your socks, and your t-shirt tucked into your trousers to ensure nothing flaps and reveals skin. You pull a large trench coat over the entire ensemble, tying it tightly at the waist. Then, you turn to Clint and do the checks. Each of you take it in turns to check the other person, making sure absolutely no skin is showing.

“Clear!” You cry, the balaclava muffling your voice. You’d only been covered for a few minutes but you could already feel sweat soaking into the material.

“Clear.” Clint replies, nodding. You square your shoulders and take a breath, turning to the door and pulling it open. The sunlight is blinding for a few seconds, you and Clint standing in the doorway blinking furiously, waiting for your eyes to adjust. Clint reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it reassuringly as you take your first step outside.

The heat hits you like a wall, almost doubling you over, and your body crying out in pain. It takes all your willpower to not run back inside the house and hide. Instead, against your better judgement, you continue moving forward, clutching Clint’s hand for support. You hadn’t even taken ten paces however, when you feel a rumble beneath your feet. Before you can process what is happening, the crack from your house widens dramatically, shooting towards you. The ground opens up beneath you and there is nothing you can do to prevent it. Clint lunges towards you and wraps his arms around your body as the crack splits the earth, and you fall into the unknowing darkness.

You fall for so long you start to lose track of time. All you know is darkness and the feeling of Clint’s arms wrapped unfalteringly around you.

—

You wake up as you hit something solid, air being forced out of your lungs. You’d been falling for so long you’d lost track of time, falling asleep in eachothers arms as a release from the growing heat. You stand and look around, squinting through the darkness. A hot air swirled around you, suffocating you, so hot every breath was riddled with pain. You could feel the heat blistering any exposed skin on your body, your throat dryer than you ever thought it could be.

“Where are we?” You rasp, struggling to get out the words.

“I don’t know…” Clint replies, his hand entwined with yours. His face was suddenly illuminated in a vicious red, fire spewing from the ground in all directions. The heat, if possible, intensified, the fire surrounding you in a wide circle.

You watched the ring of dancing flames, sensing movement from the other side. Then, slowly, figures pushed through the fire, advancing on you slowly. They didn’t seem affected by the heat, their eyes focused hungrily on Clint.

“Clint…who are these people? Where are we?”

“I don’t know…” Clint repeats, a sharp bark of a laugh escaping the figure closest to you.

“Oh he knows alright. You’re such a bad liar Clint.”

 

“We are…they are…”

“That’s right. You’re on our land now superhero.” The figure growls, advancing further still.

“They’re people I’ve killed…I’ve killed all of these…these things.” Clint mutters quietly as if not wanting to believe a word he is saying.

“That’s right hero.” The figure laughs. “Welcome to Hell.”


	8. Bite - Zombies (pt 1 of 1)

Your breath his moving so fast through your chest that it burns as you pant, clinging to your consciousness like running water. You heart hammered against your chest making the blood rush to your twitching legs as you try to stay awake and stay quiet.

You can hear their scuffling, the guttural groans of the undead that came from throats without lips, with jaws unhinged as they seek your living flesh.

They’re getting closer to finding you now, your hiding place behind the tree could only hold out against their sense of smell for so long. The blood running from your thigh fills the air with a sweet smell like a beacon to the monsters.

Your heart was still beating fast but it was slowing as the blood gushed from your leg, the wound red and angry through your jeans. You can feel the fatigue coming over your limbs as one of them hobbles around your tree on decayed legs.

Your breath left you at the sight of it. The body still had a full set of teeth that were grinding and gnawing over what little skin of its lips remained, the skin around his mouth flaking and peeling and soaked with a mix of brown and dark red blood. The things body was twisted at the spine in a wholly unnatural way, it’s top half swinging like saloon doors as it turned and scrambled for you.

You let out a bellowing scream as it dropped and sunk its teeth into your already damaged leg, having no strength left in you to fight the thing off. It’s teeth bore through your leg easily, the blood gushing around it as tore the flesh away from your body like melted cheese.

With the last of your strength you pull your small gun and take aim, firing a single shot straight into the things head. Its movements still as it slumps on you and you drop the gun, your eyes flickering as exhaustion fills your body. You know the rest of the things will come now.

Your world turns dark quickly.

-

You closed the empty cabinet with a deep sigh. This was the last house on this street that you’d be able to search before it got dark and you still had a severe lack of food. You’re stomach had been consistently aching from the meagre meals you’d been having the last couple of days.

Rubbing your stomach you pick up your supply bag and head back outside to get to your safe house before night fell. You would have to relocate tomorrow, you’d decided. There was nothing left in this area for you and if you stayed too long you wouldn’t have enough supplies to make it to the next town.

As quietly as you could you opened the front door, keeping your eyes peeled for lingering zombies around the street but instead coming face to face with the barrel of a gun. Your instinct kicks in almost immediately and you throw yourself toward the man with the gun, slamming into him so the gun clatters out of his hand.

You land on top of him with a grunt and he yells as he tries to throw you off him and grab his gun. While your still grappling for the weapon the noise of approaching guttural groans cuts through your fight and you both pause. As you’ve stopped you take the opportunity to look at your assailant. He looked to be only around the same age as you, his hair bleached blonde, almost grey, with the roots growing out and a layer of scruff growing over his chin and neck. His deep blue eyes shine out between dark lashes, like sparkling clean pools of water between his grubby face. Turning your head you see the undead ambling toward you, closer than you had expected.

You raise your knee up and swiftly bring it down on the guy’s stomach, his body curling inward with a grunt as you stand, swiping his gun as you do. He calls for you to wait as you pump your legs, propelling you away from the monster that was doing a thing. The man calls for you again and you look back to see the monster almost on him.

Something in your stomach sits uncomfortably as you watch him being all scared. Cursing, you make a u turn and raise your gun just as the thing wraps his decaying hands around the guy’s forearms, pulling him foreword toward his chomping and gnashing jaw. The bullet lands around the things neck, splattering through in a mix of brown blood and old flesh that makes it falter briefly, he second landing in its head. He falls heavily and the guy scoots up, hand to his heart as he shakes in fear.

You grab him with a sweaty hand and drag him off before any more of the biters can gather at the sound of the gun. He’s still panting behind you and you don’t talk as you carefully head to your safe house, keeping an eye out for the lurking dangers around you.

Finally, you reach the house you had been staying in the last few days. Its windows were messily boarded and a few decaying bodies were heaped on the front garden, as a kind of stinking mass grave (?) to those who tried to get in.

“Where are we?” The guy asks. Turning you see him eyeing the house suspiciously and that same feeling of paranoia sits in your stomach, you didn’t know whether it was the best idea to bring him here but you couldn’t leave him.

“This is where I’ve been staying, it’ll be safe enough for now.” You reply, wincing as your stomach loudly growls. “You can stay for now but I’m leaving in the morning, this block of houses is dry.”

He doesn’t reply. You head inside and close the door as the darkness starts to set around the always unnervingly quiet street. Using your grubby lighter you light the few candles that were scattered around what was once a living room and sit on your makeshift bed.

“Are you hungry?” He questions gruffly, glancing at the pathetic amount of supplies you had left. Sitting in front of you he pulls some cans out of his bag. He sets a tin of beans and peach slices in front of you, it wasn’t much but it was better food than you had seen for days so you dig in ravenously.

He eats quietly as well and you both finish in silence, only the occasional grumble and groan from outside filling the space.

“How long have you been here?” He says. You notice he has a slight European accent that you didn’t pick up on before. He pulls his own sleeping bag out of his rucksack and lays it out, looking at you expectantly for an answer.

“About 2 weeks. I don’t like to stay in the same place too much, you know.” He nods grimly in understanding and you bring some candles closer to the two of you so you can see each other better. “What about you? You just coming through or are you holding up somewhere? You with anyone else?” You try not to let the hope in your voice sound too obvious.

“No,” He shakes his head gravely and you can’t help how disappointed you feel, “I’m travelling to a safe area that I heard about on the radio, a military protected area in Texas.”

“In Texas?” You sigh shakily, “Buddy that base was taken down, it went down near after the broadcasts stop I hear.”

“You’ve been there?”

“Nah, I met some people coming from that way.”

He smiles slightly even after you say this, “then there’s still some hope. I have to see it with my own eyes.” He lies down on his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Why is it so important to you to get there?” You wonder, copying him and laying down as well. He’s quiet for so long that you think he might not answer.

“I think I can stop it.”

“What?” You question sharply, sitting up to look at him, half of you completely disbelieving while the other half dared to hope. He bites his lip as he stares at the ceiling, his eyes flicking to and fro as the thoughts filter through his head.

“I think I’m different…” He looks at you then, his eyes held a grave truth in them. Sitting to face you again he lifts his shirt to reveal a milky, half crescent scar standing out jaggedly on his skin. Each little indent marking that of a tooth.

You feel like the breath has been sucked from you as you stare at the scar tissue. That one scar defied everything you had learnt in this new world, what you had learnt watching your family be torn into and changed into something not human. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I really.” He mutters, touching the scar with one finger gingerly before dropping his top. He takes a shaky breath, staring at the floor intently. “A group of them got into the camp I was staying at, they took most people out while they were asleep. Some of us tried to run but I got caught. I thought I was dead, I thought I was gonna be one of them but-“

He throws his hands up in incredulity and rubs a hand over his eyes. You feel the weight of your tongue in your mouth stopping you from speaking as you look at him.

“That’s why I need to find this base, I need to find someone who can figure this out.” He looks at you seriously now, the candle light that flickers over his face making him look all that more gaunt and serious. You nod.

“I’ll help you.”

He visibly relaxes at this, his shoulders dropping as some of the weight leaves his bones. Your own body feels lighter with the news, the feeling of real, tangible hope soaring your spirits higher than they’d been since before the end of the world.

“Then we should sleep now,” He says, setting out his bed, “we can leave in the morning, find a car or something and get going.”

For the first time in a while you smile, it’s small but it’s there. Feeling overwhelmed with emotion you leap forward and hug the guy, your eyes pricking at the thought of an escape from this hell.

He jumps in surprise at first but tentatively wraps his arms around you too, both of your hugging quietly, ignoring the outside world. You don’t want to lose the sensation of comfort you had but you pulled back anyway, not wanting to come off strange.

“Hey, I never asked your name.” You say, quirking your head.

“Pietro,” he smiles, “you?”

“(y/n).” You reply and get into to bed, more eager to leave a place than you had been before. “Night then.”

He bids you goodnight too and you both fall asleep, next to each other and feeling unfamiliarly content as you drifted off. 

-

When your eyes snap open you only see forest.

Your body hurts, you don’t understand where you were, what was happening. You mind runs in circles, disorientated, as you try to process what had happened to Pietro, what had happened to your small window of hope.

Looking down you see the same zombie still laying still on top of your leg that had a scarily big ring of blood around it, you can hear the growls and moans of more of those things crowding closer to you, fear springing through you.

With a new kind of dismal, draining hopelessness you feel yourself wake entirely from unconsciousness. The memories of you could only think was a dream, memories of the boy with the cure, of sanctuary, fading along with the hope you had for your life.

The zombies close ranks around you, and with a gargled scream, the blackness comes to meet you again.


	9. The Beginning - Monster

“Thirteen more people dead.” You muse, your eyes scanning the newspaper. Thor doesn’t look up from his food, only grunting in response. “What is up with you lately?”

“What do you mean” He asks, still not making eye contact.

“You haven’t exactly been yourself.” You say, narrowing your eyes. He doesn’t answer, instead standing and leaving the room. “THOR!”

“What? What do you want?” He shouts, spinning around and barrelling towards you, eyes glinting.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Nothing is wrong with me. I’m. Fine.” And at that he storms off, out of the room. You sigh and stand, folding the newspaper and throwing it in anger onto the sofa. Since Thor had moved in with you a week ago he hadn’t been himself. He was only staying with you temporarily, just needing a place to crash.

You two had been close, very close. Things had changed. He seemed…different. Not himself. More angry. And now these people were dying randomly. It had all started about a week ago, around the same time Thor had moved in with you. The newspapers weren’t giving all the facts, just something about abnormalities in the brain.

You jump as Thor’s door slams open again. He is wearing his coat and a stormy expression on his face.

“Where are you going?” You ask as he pushes past you, almost knocking you to the ground. Not giving an answer, he slams the front door shut with such force the apartment rattles. You think for a split second, then hurry after him. If he wasn’t going to tell you where he was going, you were going to follow him. Maybe then you could finally work out what was going on.

He is already quite a way ahead of you when you stumble out of the building, already out of breath. You flick your hood up over your head, shadowing your face, making you less recognisable. With your head bowed you hurry after Thor’s unmistakable figure, keeping your eyes focused.

You watch as Thor crosses the street then ducks into an alley. You pause when you reach the alley, peering around the corner to see where Thor is. You look just in time to watch Thor rounding the corner at the end of the alley. Trying not to make too much noise you follow, stepping lightly on your feet.

As you turn the corner you almost stumble, tripping over yourself trying to move back round the corner. You peer around the wall and watch Thor, who is holding a man up against a wall by his jacket.

“Please…please man I’ll give you whatever you want.” The man pleads, visibly shaking.

“I don’t want anything from you.” Thor chuckles. You watch in horror as he drops the man, pulling a knife out of his pocket. The man tries to crawl away but Thor puts his shoe on the man’s chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Please let me go!” The man cries. Your mouth falls open as Thor bends down and stabs the man in the chest, dragging the knife down his body, slitting him open. You place a shaky hand over your mouth, trying to muffle your sobs. Salty tears run down your cheeks and taint your mouth, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Thor.

Thor’s hands are in the man’s chest, the knife cutting effortlessly through skin and tissue. Then he lifts his hand, holding what is clearly the man’s heart. Thor places it on the ground gently and lifts the knife again, this time however, cutting into his own chest. You can’t help but yelp, thankfully however Thor is too engrossed to notice. You hear a loud ripping noise and watch as Thor quite literally tears his heart out of his chest. When you see it though your eyes widen. It doesn’t look like the other man’s. What should be a red is brown, what should be glistening with blood is dry and cracked.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Thor shoves his old heart into the man’s chest and pushes his skin together. After a few seconds he moves his hand away, picking up the other heart and then placing that in his chest. Then, he pushes his skin together and it seals instantly, leaving nothing but a faint scar. You blink a few times, not believing what you’d just seen. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, the man who Thor had just stabbed and murdered, sits up, coughing violently.

“What…what did you do to me?” He mutters, feeling the now healed skin on his chest. As soon as he says this though, his body starts convulsing, red foam frothing in his mouth. His eyes glaze over and Thor stands, the man following suit. Then, without any hesitation, the man sprints down the alley away from you and Thor, into a crowded street.

“I know you’re there.” Thor says into the gloom. You gulp, reluctant to move. “I knew you were following me the moment you left the building.”

“What did you do to him?” You ask shakily, moving round the corner and walking towards Thor.

“I’m just doing my job.”

“Your job? Thor-“

“I am NOT Thor!” He cries, spinning to face you, his eyes burning a fierce red. “I am sick of you following me around Thor this Thor that. I needed this façade only for a little while. My work here is done.”

“What…what are you talking about?” In answer, Thor…or whoever…places his fingers under his chin and hooks them, pulling up. As he pulls his hand up his skin comes with it, the entire of Thor’s face ripping off, revealing a bloody, scarred one beneath. He drops the false face to the floor and bares his teeth, a low rumble of a laugh escaping his throat.

“You have no idea what you are dealing with. What your world is about to become.”

“What have you done…?”

“I like to think of it as a global cleansing. I’m sure you will soon find out. Everyone will soon find out. The first seeds have been planted. The first people have been infected and your human immune systems are so weak it’ll spread like wildfire.”

“I-“

“That’s enough. I am sick of you and your constant petty whining. It’s kinder this way. You’ll soon die a much harsher death if I let you go.” The…thing in front of you says. He pulls his knife out of his pocket again and advances towards you. You stumble backwards and stagger, falling. You raise your hand in a last feeble attempt to protect yourself, but this doesn’t deter him. He thrusts the knife down with such force it drives through your hand and into your heart, pinning your hand to your body. You take a breath but your throat is full of liquid. You can’t breathe, you feel warm, but there is no pain. It is soon over. You watch the plague walk away from you, as a veil of black falls over your eyes and your heart takes it’s final beat.


	10. The One - Supernatural (pt 1 of 1)

You’re probably playing your music too loud, judging by the looks you were getting on the train but you didn’t care. You’d had a hard day and you just wanted to drown the world out with some good old 80’s tracks. Also there was a creepy middle aged man who had been staring at you since he got on the train and you wanted to nip any thought he had of trying to talk to you in the bud.

After what seemed like an age, your train pulls up at your stop and you jump out, stretching your tense muscles a little as you do. It was only a 20 minute walk home, you could curl up in bed soon enough.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man on the train, he’d gotten off at your stop as well and was now following you to the exit. You heart speeds up, instantly your mind begins swirling with what ifs and escape plans should he try and attack you. You walk faster up the stairs of the subway, but he follows behind you the whole way and when you’ve just reached a secluded part he jumps in front of you.

“Back off buddy,” You hiss, pulling pepper spray from your bag and holding it protectively in front of you. He holds his hands up in surrender but continues to stare at you. His stare is weird, you would expect him to look creepy or something but he just looked sad and confused.

“Are you her?” He whispers and your eyebrows pull together in a frown.

“What?” You bark, red warnings going off in your head. This guy was obviously insane. He comes forward almost like he was possessed and you’re too shocked to attack him, letting him grab your shoulders.

“You’re the one,” He mutters, his eyes flicking over your face like he had found a long lost daughter. “You’re her, you’re the one, you’re-”

“Hey,” a voice calls, and the creepy guy is pulled away from you, “what’s going on here?”

The guy pulls back from you, surprised, and you take a few steps back to distance yourself. The man that had intervened comes over and pushes the creepy guy back a few paces. “Go home buddy.”

He leaves mumbling and glancing back at you every so often, an odd look on his face. Taking a deep breath to calm your heart, you give your saviour a small smile. “Thanks for that, guy was a real creep.” You laugh, stuffing your pepper spray back into your bag as the lights flicker above you. He smiles and you can’t help but notice how handsome he is.

“No problem,” he tips his head, the appearance of a gentleman, “You want me to walk you out? Just in case he’s still around?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” You say as you start heading toward the exit of the subway but the lights begin flickering wildly again. You look around, suspicious but put it down to bad circuiting in the station.

“My name’s Steve by the way,” Steve says, pulling your attention from the lights. “and you are?”

“(y/n), I’m…” You smile but it fades as the lights flicker on and off, setting the quiet subway in shadow, “I’m (y/n)…” Something bangs loudly, making the both of you jump and turn to find the source but lights cut out completely, plunging you into pitch blackness. Out of instinct you grab onto Steve’s arm as a slow banging starts at the end of the walkway.

It starts with one loud bang and then a long pause, drawing out the silence so you can only hear the two of your heavy breaths, and then another bang, closer this time. And then faster and faster it speeds up until it’s so close it’s right in front of you and you’re tripping backwards to get away from it. You fall, a scream leaving you as you shut your eyes tightly against the thing you could feel was as looming over you, it’s rancid breath wafting over your face.

And then you hear Steve calling your name and hauling you up and you open you eyes to see the lights on again, the sounds of people commuting and trains rattling past filtering through the background once more.

“What the hell was that?” Steve hisses, his eyes wide and shaky as he holds you up. You can only shake your head, too stunned to speak. You swallow thickly, trying to comprehend what had just happened. It didn’t seem like it could be real.

“Let’s - let’s just go.” You mutter and pull him round to leave again but you’re stopped by the lights bursting loudly around, making you both scream. The pair of you freeze once more as it feels like an icy mist envelops you, the air around you seeming to thicken.

“I know it’s you.” A voice whispers in your ear and you jump back into Steve, feeling a presence brush past you.

“What’s going on? Who are you?!” you shout, Steve’s arms wound around you protectively but not being able to return the warmth that was slowly seeping out of your body.

“What is it?” Steve whispers frantically, his body shivering as he slowly edges you in the direction of the exit, feeling through the dark. You feel a soft touch on the side of your face like icy fingertips brushing your hair away and you head jerks away, your heart clenching in fear.

“You can’t hear that?” You say, the voice whispering your name again and again. Your breath stops in your throat as the lights flicker back to life and, right in front of your wide eyes, a face is illuminated. The hair and skin white as a sheet but the eyes as black as coal and staring straight into yours.

You feel the breath stop in your throat and your body freeze.

“Fuck this,” Steve yells and grabs your hand, pulling your tense body along as he sprints for the stairs up to the main street, up to safety. You reach the top panting for breath and turn to see people milling in and out as if nothing had happened, completely normally. You wouldn’t have believed what just happened if you weren’t still so shaken up. “Okay, I need a drink.”

You turn away from the subway, taking Steve’s hand in comfort and lead him away. You didn’t know what had just happened but you wanted to get as far away from that place as possible.

And from the other side of the road, hidden in shadow, a man watches on.


End file.
